


I Drew You From A Song Lyric

by itsnotasecret



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bear - Freeform, Evak - Freeform, I can see the characters in my mind, I guess there's an Isak hidden in Louis, M/M, Twink, and a dark haired Even in Harry, but they don't match my to fav couples: Evak and Larry, so let's pretend it's a mix
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 12:25:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11440827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsnotasecret/pseuds/itsnotasecret
Summary: Louis is a timid-looking, cute af boy in his last teenage year. Harry is his footie coach, having taken the move from London to Copenhagen seven years ago in order to be closer to his groom to be. They split, and now Harry isn't even sure of what he's still hanging about in Copenhagen for. Except we know. And he knows, too. In short; everyone knows except Louis.





	1. you make me wanna be a star

_Yuck._

A lob of rain soaked soil glued to Louis’ brand new Vagabond sneakers. Pondering that extra second allotted an elbow to the mid of his back, but instead of floundering, he bolted the fastest he could. On and on he ran; all the way to the slick metal pole from where he caught grip and flung into soft netting – halting his pursuit.

“Alright!” A whistle blew. “Everybody in!”

Hadn’t he even noticed? Louis soured.

Eleven sketched figures trickled into the gym in the distance. Louis had to sprint to catch up, always the last in the shower. The coach held the door open for him to do his mandatory count of heads. No words exchanged. Louis always found it an awkward passing.

 

There were a few people left in the showers as he entered.

"Everybody knows Ronaldo is gay!"

"Uhm - _no_? He can get all the women in the world and gets them too."

“Coach Harry definitely is,” said Sigve.

“Ugh, why would you say that?” Tim peaked in from the wardrobe.

“Because my older brother’s girlfriend’s cousin used to date him. They went to gay bars and stuff together. Apparently he loves to blow but is really bad at it.”

“Oh my god.” Tim giggled into his hand.   

Louis yanked his towel off the hook and rubbed it across his back before tucking it round the waist.

He joined the rest in the locker room and geared up to make a quick exit in hope of reaching the number 21 bus, clothes thrown haphazardly on and hair a chaos.

 

Rain drilled atop the bus shelter. By the eight minute, he knew his gut had been right. Admitting defeat, he veered east and caught glance of Harry packing up his car with footies and spare sneakers. He had an inkling he may have been spotted, but Harry only shut the front door and teed off.

_Because he never notices._

Louis flicked his iPod on, braced for the 35 minute walk to his flat. 

 

 

 

“Taste this!”

“Hmrff-” He spat out the spiced meat.

“Oh. I get it. Tastes awful, OK, I’ll just make another bat-”

“Nope, just surprised.” Louis rolled his eyes. John always moaned about the food he made. The fact that it was delicious didn’t mitigate Felix’ dislike of having stuff shoved into his mouth out of the blue. “Where’s Pernille? She still owns me a coffee.”

“At work. Will be home by...” John beckoned at the clock, spatula spinning in the bowl, “10!”

“Too late for coffee then ... We’ll do it tomorrow, it’s my day off. You coming with?”

“Picture day.”

Louis grabbed a green apple, filling his mouth so not lured to ask.

“For my cooking book.”

“Oh.”

“Johns Jelly & Other Snackery Snacks. It’s a working title.” He added to Louis’ expression.

“It’s a no-title.”

John slapped his apron at him as he giggled his way into his room.

_Ah._ He turned on his computer. It’d been a long day. The guy in one of the porn videos he preferred looked like an older Justin Bieber – his all-time guilty pleasure. Ensuring the door was locked, he heaved atop his tired sofabed and began stroking his shaft. It rose easily.

Rain slipped into the nook of his windowsill, enhancing the blooming mildew already present.

Louis coughed, focusing the hardest he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as with most of my stories (three in total, but yeah) I prefer to title my chapters with sentences picked out of song lyrics. This one belongs to Stanaj - Romantic. 
> 
> "You make me wanna be romantic  
> You make me wanna be a star  
> You make me wanna act different  
> I love you for who you are"


	2. you are not the single type

“Why would I text first?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“It’s needy, everybody knows that.” She admonished, sipping frappe latte through a pink straw.

Louis only had a black Columbian coffee. Simpler the better. “Why would you want someone who thinks it’s needy to answer texts to begin with?”

“I wish John was here. He’d understand.”

They chuckled, stilling their talk to watch all the people passing by. It was a busy cafe, and Louis worked here every day save Saturdays. It was a welcoming change not to grow sweat beads behind the counter and perfecting people’s artsy cappuccino-wishes. They were rarely pleased anyway, and Louis really _did_ try.

 

He cast Emil, his co-worker, a sympathetic glance as a familiar face came in the door. Louis craned his neck to make it look like he was observing the hustle and bustle of the street. Sun shining. Tote bags. Bicycles. Dark skies in the distance but not here yet.

Focusing on Pernille’s talk, he noted Harry opting for the table right behind him. There was a sound of a newspaper flapping open, and a content sigh at the first sip of coffee. Harry always got the strongest coffee they had. Though Louis had noted his penchant was more for cherry-flavoured coffee rather than it necessarily being the strongest.

When in polite chitter-chatter about just that, Louis found they never agreed on what it was about black coffee that they liked. Louis would say, “Because it’s dark,” and Harry “Because it tastes dark.” When it came to actual flavours, Louis couldn’t care less. It’s not like coffee was _tasty_ – did anyone really think that?

“What about the guy you hooked up with last Friday? At the club-thing with Lars and John? And John?? You also hooked up with John, right? That Saturday was the most awkward to date. Our household is never that quiet.”

“Don’t be so loud!”

“I’m not loud?” She shrieked, casting her blonde mane off her shoulders and looking around. “Who cares what we’re talking about?”

Louis sunk into his seat.

“Anyway, how was it like?”

“Ugh, to kiss John? It was just a bet. He said it would be a shame for the only two gays in our apartment block not to kiss. I’m never having Bombay Sapphire again.”

“No, no, that other guy? You haven’t gotten laid since, what, last Christmas? Or the Christmas before that ... Or ... Oh my god, the one before that?”

“Could you ...”

A chair winced. “Fellas.”

“Break time?” Louis checked his Samsung. 12:36.

“Overdue, actually. Hey, your coach was just here!”

Holy Christ. Had people lost their social antennas all together?

“He just left,” Emil answered Louis’ panic eyes. “And why so uptight?” He motioned to massage his shoulders a few seconds.

“I’m not upti-.”

“I’ll get you another coffee,” he winked and vanished as fast as he came.

“You could probably have sex right now,” Pernille rolled her eyes. “Ask him to refill the toilet paper or something and shove him in and lock the door.”

“He’s just sucking up. He knows I’m not that into becoming head barista and once Karl retires, it’ll be either me or Emil, and I’ve worked here the longest, so.”

“He’s too blonde isn’t, he. Not your type?”

Emil arrived with a fresh cup of liquid gold.

“Thanks, E.”

“No worries. But anyway, your coach is quite nice, isn’t he? Always popping in and smiling and being ... You know. Friendly.”

“He’s single. Go for it.” Louis said, scorching his tongue.

“If only ...” Emil sighed dramatically, chewing on a chocolate chip cookie. “I don’t really have a thing for bears.”

“What does he mean,” Pernille hovered across the table, “Your coach is hairy?”

Louis and Emil wheezed. “It’s like a grown man ... Someone older. You know? And we’re twinks ‘cause we’re young and ... cute.”

“So a porn fetish, then?”

Emil explained in elaborate detail. Louis lost his attention to a group of friends outside, showing each other things off their phones and laughing. The sun hit the windows sharply and blinded him momentarily. It was a sweet notion, blind but aware.

The caffeine hit his head and the dizziness didn’t leave until some 30 minutes later.  

 

 

***

 

 

It wasn’t that Harry hated his job. He just missed London, was all. Something else to do but the same pubs, the same cafes, the same hangouts. Though Copenhagen had its boroughs, too. Its charm. Comfort.

They stormed the hall. So young and so loud.

“Alright.” He waved them in. “Light run for starters. Back and forth ten times each.”

They kicked off in immediate action. He noted right away someone missing. He’s not usually late but a first time for everyt-

“Coach?”

He swivelled. Louis stood even smaller than what he remembered, clutching his phone.

“My phone died and I didn’t know the time, so missed the bus by a few minutes.”

“They don’t go that often from Amager, do they?”

“No.”

Harry only knew because he’d checked the bus schedule at the start of last semester so to know the likelihood of Louis catching practice. The rest lived closer to the town centre, and all though Harry himself lived nearby Louis, he always took the car.

“That’s alright then. 10 lapses."

 

That evening, Harry decided to go out to eat. He picked a renowned sushi bar with a decent glass of crisp, white wine.

Despite spring, or because of it, rain fell from the sky outside. He’d forgotten his umbrella. So be it. He’d have a late night shower when he came home and dry up safe and sound in the embrace of his Egyptian cotton bedsheets.

The cat-shaped bell by the door rang.

The person shook his umbrella out by the tram, then stepped in to get his takeaway order.

“Oh! H-hi!”

“Hi.”

“Great sushi here.”

“I know. Just finished my plate.” Harry rose.

Louis thanked the waiter and took his bag. “You didn’t bring an umbrella?”

“It was glimpse of sun as I walked here!”

Louis chuckled, ducking his head. “Danish weather.”

“I’ll say.”

“But you know, the Brits aren’t known to have the best weather either.”

“I know, but I’ve never had such winds as here. It’s to the bone.”

“We can walk together?” Louis held his umbrella high up.

“Sure. I can hold it?”

“Thanks.”

Harry used to pretend to be a warrior when he was a child, and this reminded him of one of his favourite times. Torrential downpour and running about outside, hiding under metal roofs and pretending to be in the midst of a war.

“I live close to here.”

He refocused, looking down at Louis. His hair untouched by as much as a raindrop. “Yeah?”

“Lynettevej 4. And you?”

“A few streets away. Amager strand.”

“Ooh, fancy apartment overlooking the sea?”

“Oh, you're thinking of the cargos and lightning bolts.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It’s very nice.”

They walked in silence the last street before Louis halted. “I live here.”

“OK. Thanks for the shelter.” Harry smiled but wasn’t sure it showed through the darkness.

“You can keep it if you want? I can get it from you at some later time?”

“No, no. I’ll just run, I think. I already managed to get wet before the sushi, so. Was thinking of just having a shower before bed. Drying up.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Harry chuckled. “You’re not wet one bit!”

“Forgot to shower after practice.”

“Ah. Right.” Louis often did. Either he was the last one in, or not in at all. His prerogative. Harry knew how raucous budding football talents could be. Louis was quieter. “See you then.”

“See you.”

Turning the corner he caught a room light up on the 4th floor of the building Louis went in. Golden hair passed the window before the boy turned back again, talking to someone.

Harry knew he lived with a few others; the girl he was with at Kaffebryggeren and a guy who was head of the school’s Chef Team. They’d even managed to score a visit by Jamie Oliver back in 2015.

 

The number in the elevator showed his flat. He walked gingerly through the hallway, trying not to leave puddles behind. Once inside he flung off his clothes and hopped in the shower, setting it on full steam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from I Feel It Coming - The Weeknd. 
> 
> "You are not the single type  
> so baby, this is the perfect time"


	3. buy that boy with a pipe

Louis' feet trembled with anticipation. He couldn't wait. Harry was informing them of the incumbent trip to Spain and what to bring. They’d only paid a small fee and the rest was covered by the municipality in promotion of health awareness for youngsters.

What few people knew was that Louis was one of the oldest in the team. He’d be 20 in three months, and the rest were either 18 or below. He imagined whisking away into secret bars the rest wouldn’t be able to join, meeting handsome men and maybe even making out with one of them.

“Did everyone catch that?” Harry roamed before them, eyes stern.

_Oops._

“What if we don’t have a passport?” Jørgen asked.

“You can order one at the police station. But do it as fast as you can, it can sometimes take a while to get it in the mail.”

“Do we need to bring a sleeping bag?” Louis wondered.

“He just told us!” Tim whispered behind him.

“No sleeping bags. The hotel’s got it covered. We’ll be sharing a room, two and two. One of you will get a room to yourself, as will I. I assume no one wants to share.”

“Unless you want to wake up with a dick in your arse,” Tim chuckled quietly. Louis wasn’t sure Harry hadn’t picked up on it, though. He often wondered how he put up with this childish bunch of hormonal teens.

“I can assure you any asses will be left alone.”

Louis choked a laugh. Tim only coughed. “Sorry, Coach.”

 

That evening, Louis caught his bus. He couldn’t remember the last time it had happened.

He arranged his packing gear at once. Passport. Underwear. Socks. Shorts. T-shirts. Pills for nausea – he always got poorly overseas, notebook for thoughts and musings, a book he’d meant to read but never gotten to, iPod and a bottle of water. He was set.

 

 

***

 

 

Harry and co-assistant Wergel kept the boys in firm line. Everything’d gone according to plan, all the way to the hotel. Alarmingly, Louis’ face had turned green on the way there, and he needed the afternoon to rest and fill up with water, assuring it was normal procedure when travelling.

The first afternoon was spent bathing in the swimming pool and eating a light dinner at the hotel’s restaurant. The salad even left Harry’s tummy feeling funny, and he usually didn’t react to anything.

They had the sun until near midnight. Secretly, Harry couldn’t wait for the boys to hop into bed so he could enjoy an ice cold glass of white wine or some drink-of-the-evening.

Wergel appeared to think the same thing. “Alrighty, boys-y,” he smacked his hands, chuckling, “bed time at 10 as agreed. Now it’s 11 so it’s way past what we agreed. It’s the first day, I’ll let it pass.” He shot up his index finger swished it in the air as the lads were about to argue. Wergel had indeed promised they could stay up until they felt tired.

They ambled in slowly, backs hunched but eyes clearly ready for sleep.

 

Harry and Wergel ordered Sex on the beach and let their legs rest on the feet stool. The swimming pool was still and vacant. Faint music buzzed from a hot dog stand nearby. All in all it was heaven.

“Coach?” Louis light feet stepped onto the stone path from the entrance to the garden.

“Oh, Louis! How are you? Feeling better?”

“A little. It feels like I have low energy, though.”

“Come sit,” said Wergel. Harry knew he had a soft spot for Felix. Most did, he guessed. Louis was always polite and sweet and fair.

“Pretend not to see us drinking alcohol.”

“Hm? Oh,” he offered a belated laugh and hid his eyes in his palms. “What alcohol?”

“That’s my boy,” Wergel pat his back forcefully.

Harry wanted to tell him to be careful. God’s sake. Louis’ face had only just turned into a more normal shade of white.

“Who you’re sharing room with then?” Wergel asked.

“Oh, uhm ... No one, really.”

“Lucky, then! I’m stuck with his lad!”

Harry shrugged, surprised at the discomfort in Louis smiling at him like that.

“I could switch rooms if that’s a problem, Werg.”

“Oh, no. I wouldn’t want Louis to be stuck with you either.” He laughed merrily, taking an ample slurp of his drink.

“I want gin.” Louis said.

“Gin?”

“It’s good for bacteria and the gut. Just a small sip.”

“We can’t give you that,” Wergel said with regret.

“But I’m 19.”

“We’re here as your guardians, though. Sorry, punk.”

“Ple-ease?”

Both Harry and Wergel laughed. Everyone else were in bed. There was barely a person out in the garden. Harry had read in a magazine article how it was true what Louis said.

“I’ll get you half a tumbler of gin.”

“Wha-” Wergel interrupted, halting. “Could you get me another Sex on the beach as well?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

 

It might have been a mistake, Harry pondered, watching Louis’ first sip. His face cringed and he shook his head several times. “How do people like this?” He did another sip. “I just have to remember that it’s good for me,” he spoke to himself.

“You get used to it,” Harry said.

“But it burns! Arrgh!” Yet he took sip after sip. “Now it feels better. It’s clearing up my throat.”

“It’s strong. You don’t need any more now, I think.”

“OK.” He set it on the glass table. “I’m heading to bed then.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow, L. Sleep well. Breakfast is from 10 but there’s nothing on the agenda after that until 2 PM.”

“OK. Good night.” He yawned, cheeks a flaming red and steps kind of unsteady.

Harry checked after him to make sure he got in OK and that no one was following him. Louis – and all the other boys – was their responsibility for the weekend. No chances were to be taken.

“Night for us as well?” Wergel wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. It glistened.

“Yep. Let’s go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from Calvin Harris' Slide. 
> 
> "I might empty my bank account  
> and buy that boy with a pipe  
> buy that boy with a pipe  
> I might, I might"


End file.
